


Irony

by Hekate1308



Series: The Crowley Chronicles [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Post-Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: This is not what they were expecting when they tried to get their mother back. Crowley and Castiel survival fix it.





	1. Chapter 1

“It says it will bring back “The One who has done the most for you”, Dean! This could be our shot!”

“Sammy, I know you want Mom back, and trust me, I do too, but –“

Dean bites his lip.

“We don’t know she’s all that will return to our universe. Lucifer’s out there – “

“And so is Mom”.

Dean sigs and turns to their freshly revived and now human friend.

“Cas, what do you think?”

“There’s a great risk involved” he says simply, “And we shouldn’t forget...”

He trails off. Dean nods.

“Crowely offed himself so Lucifer wouldn’t come back, and we’re trying to open the portal again.”

“No, we’re not; we’re just dragging someone out”.

His brother won't take no for an answer, as Dean well knows, and he will do it on his own if he doesn't get what he wants.

So he acquiesces while trading worried glances with Cas.

Sam has been on saving Mom mode for months now, ever since Dean, reeling from the loss of Cas (and, as he much later admitted to himself, Crowley as well, just a little bit) had done away with the spawn of Satan.

At least Cas came back to life pretty quickly. They still think Chuck had something to do with it.

At least this might bring them closure, if nothing else.

So as Sam finishes the spell in an abandoned warehouse not far from the bunker, both Dean and Cas are holding angel blades, just in case.

There’s a bright flash; the portal opens once again; they hear the thump of a body on the floor; and when they can see again –

They watch Crowley jump up, obviously fuelled by adrenaline.

“What the – “ Sam begins in the same moment Dean moves forward.

Because the shock on Crowley’s face makes two things very clear:

One, he is as human as Cas.

And two, he’s just realizing that as the weight of everything he did as a demon comes crashing down.

Dean’s just in time to prevent him from crashing down on the floor again.

“Ugh. Guys, a little help? Dude’s not exactly a light weight”.

Cas is at their side in an instant; Sam needs a moment longer.

“Something must have gone wrong with the spell” he mutters as they carry Crowley to the car. He’s semi-conscious but unaware of them, babbling to himself with a Scottish accent Dean is pretty sure must have sounded right when he was human, but is all but ineligible nowadays.

“Sam...” he begins, unsure of how to voice his suspicion that the spell did exactly what it’s supposed to do, because if you compare what they’ve been through over the years...

He meets Cas’ eyes and realizes he understands too.

“So which hospital are we taking him to?” Sam asks once they’ve buckled him into the car. He’s silent now, but shaking all over.

“What?”

“Dean, we can’t very well – “

“Why? Guy’s got nothing, Sam. No ID, no insurance, hell, his meat suit might still be on the missing persons’ list, and what do we do then? No, he’s coming to the bunker”.

“But –“

“Sam” he says, tired of pretending that he hasn’t been grieving just a tad for the demon in the last few months because he knew his brother wouldn’t understand, “We’re taking him with us. He offed himself for us, for crying out loud!”

Crowley flinched at that.

“Sorry man” Dean mumbled, awkwardly squeezing his shoulder, “It’s all going to be okay.”

He has no idea if that’s true, but it’s the only thing to say.

“Cas? Can you look after him in the back?”

Their friend nods. He knows exactly what it means to suddenly become human.

And so does Dean. And Dean knows even more than Cas in this special situation, because he’s the one who turned back human after becoming a demon and he remembers the moment all the guilt that had been suppressed while he’d gone dark came crashing down again.

And from what Sam told him – that Crowley once openly bragged about the evil things he’d done – he assumes that he’s not doing well right now.

He does his best to concentrate on his driving and not glance back every few seconds; at least Sam does enough watching for the both of them, obviously still figuring out why they ended up with Crowley.

Dean, meanwhile, is busy attempting to find an excuse why he’s so damn glad to see the former King of Hell, even in his sorry state.

Yeah, he grieved and told himself he shouldn’t, and yeah, sometimes he missed him. They knew each other for years when he stabbed himself, and he’d become a familiar face in a world where that’s a rarity, and –

Yes, maybe their “Summer of Love” had something to do with it as well, because whether Dean has ever admitted as much, they actually were friends back then, or as close as two demons can get anyway.

Crowley doesn’t say a thing the whole drive, which is disconcerting to say the least. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever had a conversation with him without being reminded how much he loves the sound of his own voice.

Loved, apparently. All rules have been thrown out the window, he reminds himself, because that’s no demon in the backseat, that’s a man who needs help, furthermore, a man who needs help because he was helping them, and they won’t throw him out. They’ve history of not treating their – allies as well as they deserve, and as far as Dean’s concerned, it’s high time they stop doing that.

He meets Cas’ eyes in the rear view mirror.

As always, they understand one another without saying anything.

He’s concerned too.

At least Crowley follows orders (and isn’t that just another sentence Dean never thought he’d use).

When they tell him to get out of the car, he does.

When they show him an empty room and tell him it’s his, he sits down on the bed, still shaking badly.

When Dean hunts down some old clothes and hands them to him with an instruction to clean up and change, since his suit looks about as bad as he does, he takes a shower and returns to his room in jeans and a t-shirt.

Isn’t that a weird sight.

It’s pretty clear nothing will be happening when he sits down on the bed again, so Dean searches for the others.

They’re in the library, Sam pretending to read, Cas mustering him with a worried expression.

“Sam...”

“Don’t” he says quietly.

“I’m – pretty sure I get it. I just need some time”.

After a pause he adds, “I didn’t even really mean it when I thanked him that one time”.

“That’s alright. I thanked him too, and I did mean it”.

Dean smiles at Cas.

“After all, he could have just used that lance to gank Lucifer”.

“Instead he chose to save me. I wondered, at the time. It’s become clearer since I turned human”.

Dean grins and draws him into a hug.

“Yep, that’s what humanity’s about.”

Cas laughs.

Dean’s smile drops when he thinks of what this means for Crowley, though.

That’s what, three hundred years worth of doing evil deeds and laughing about it afterwards?

“Sam, didn’t you say he got all weepy and begged for forgiveness when you tried to cure him?”

Sam nods.

“Yes, but back then it happened slowly. This was sudden, and he has to deal with being resurrected too”.

After a pause he adds, “Dean, me asking to take him to a hospital... It wasn’t just me being a bit hard on him. I’m not sure we can handle this on our own”.

“I know”.

But he also knows that teh thought of locking Crowley up and throwing away the key is making his skin crawl.

“He just hates being confined, alright?”

A detail admitted during one of their late night drinking sessions when they were both demons and living it up.

“Alright” Sam says slowly. “There should be someone with him at all times, though. Losing your mind isn’t fun”.

“I agree” Cas chimes in.

It’s the one experience Dean can’t say he’s shared with his brother and best friend, despite the fact that others would probably think he’s as insane as he can be.

Dean nods.

“I’ll start the watch”.

“He’s always liked you the best anyway” Sam says.

Dean snorts.

“Means he’s hated me a little less than he’s hated everything but me, and that includes his mother”.

Oh dear, he suddenly remembers, Rowena. Now that he feels like a human, he probably misses her too.

And then there’s Gavin. He was even upset about his son’s death as a demon.

Crowley’s still sitting on the bed, staring at nothing, shaking.

Dean never thought he’d seen him like this, and he’d lie if he said it doesn’t hurt a bit.

Cain and his “mixed feelings” indeed.

He leans down so he can look Crowley in the eyes.

All he gets is a vacant stare.

Is that even him anymore? Is there a chance they’ve picked up a literary agent from New York, traumatized by years of being dragged around all over the place by a demon?

But no; if this was Crowley’s meat suit, he wouldn’t trust them instinctively.

 “Crowley” he begins slowly, “You can stay here, you understand? You can stay here and get your bearings. You know the bunker’s safe. Just... try and get better, alright?”

At least Crowley blinks. That’s more of a reaction than Dean hoped for.

They settle into a routine. Crowley, after a few days of staying in his room and not doing anything, develops a habit of following one of them around, as if he’s clinging to reality by watching those he knows.

He never says a word and he’s certainly not annoying anyone, so they let him.

Even Sam admits after a week that he pities him; and Cas, of course, has long forgiven him for anything he’s done to him.

Dean’s feelings are more complicated, because they’re even laced with guilt because he punched Crowley on the same day he stabbed himself so they could get away.

At least he eats and sleeps when they tell him to.

It’s only Dean’s thorough knowledge of the demon that ensures things don’t take a very tragic turn at the end of the first month.

He’s been suspecting for a while that Crowley’s becoming more aware of his surroundings, and when he realizes doing the dishes one night that a knife’s missing, he doesn’t hesitate.

Without a word he storms past Sam and Cas to the bathroom, where, sure enough, Crowley’s standing with the knife, his face blank as usual.

“No” Dean exclaims as he wrenches the knife out of his hand.

“No. We are not doing that again. Look, I get that you’re hurting and feeling guilty, but that’s being human. You stand up, and you dust yourself off, and you throw yourself back into the fight like the King we know, alright? I told you, you can stay. We’ll figure this out”.

He could have sworn there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

After this, Crowley predominately starts following Dean. Sam thinks it’s a good thing.

“Means he’s establishing his old patterns” he says, whatever this means.

Crowley’s not even bad company when Sam and Cas aren’t around, so he doesn’t mind.

Things start getting better. One day when they’re grocery shopping, Crowley actually reaches out and touches his arm to get Dean’s attention and points at an apple pie with a somewhat mischievous expression.

Dean buys it to celebrate, no matter what Sam says.

Slowly, there are other things too. Crowley starts signing to them, even if he still doesn’t speak, and he actually invents signs to differentiate between them.

Dean’s strangely touched he uses his fingers to symbolize antlers when he means Sam, makes a flying motion when it comes to Cas, and actually imitates a Squirrel when he’s talking about him.

As stated before, most would consider Dean slightly insane.

He points out passages in books and helpful websites to them all the time now, and they can even leave him in the bunker when they hunt, even though they’re reluctant to do so.

But one day, it’s a whole nest of vampires sucking dry a middle-sized town, so it’s all hands on deck, and Crowley nods as they explain.

Not only doesn’t he speak, he also doesn’t send texts, so Dean thinks nothing of not getting a reply when he informs him it’s all been dealt with a few days later.

Nothing could surprise them more than finding dinner ready for them when they return.

Except for one thing.

Crowley clears his throat behind them.

“Hello, boys”.

They turn around to find him smirking at them.

Yes, this is the guy Dean remembers.

A little down-cast, and a little beaten, sure, but close enough.

Things are going to be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Even when he loses, he wins.

This is it. The end of the line.

He had a good run, and dying while defeating Satan isn’t too shabby.

The boys will be fine. They always are.

He plunges the blade into his stomach.

It’s not the end.

He’s back but he’s not, and there’s a hammering in his chest that he thinks is supposed to tell him something, but he can’t think, he almost can’t breathe, and why should he, why is he trying to breathe in the first place, why is he –

_Human –_

Why is he here, why, he’s sure he’s supposed to be dead, that’s what he wanted wasn’t it, no, he didn’t want that but he had to, he thinks, but he can’t think because –

Pain.

There’s pain everywhere he turns, and he just wants it to stop, to make it stop, and he thinks he’s pleading for it to stop, certainly there has to be a reason, one reason, to release him, he –

He –

He stops talking because if he doesn’t he’ll scream, he’ll scream and he’ll scream and he’ll scream and he has no idea if he will ever be able to stop –

Hands, there are hands on him, they are leading him somewhere, but they’re not hurting him, for now at least, they are holding him up, the hands are –

_Hands, his hands, covered in blood, and he’s laughing as it flows –_

No, no, that’s wrong, why did he laugh, he’s not supposed to laugh at that, it’s wrong, it’s wrong, it hurts to think about it just like it hurts to breathe, why didn’t the blade work, the blade, where is his blade –

He plunges it in the Mother’s brain and the creature seizes up, good, progress –

No, not progress, brutality and pain and no enjoyment, how could he –

He’s in a car, must be, the world is flying past the window he can barely see, and there’s someone sitting next to him, and someone touched him before, must have, he could feel it on his shoulder, there one moment and gone the next, and there was –

Green eyes? He saw green eyes, and for some reason they are important, but he can’t recall because when he tries it hurts, every memory hurts, every single flash he sees brings new pain, how is he supposed to make sense of all of this –

He’s come to help, it’s time to get rid of the devil once and for all, and he doesn’t expect the punch –

Wait, why is green eyes helping him now when he hurt him before? Maybe they’re just bringing him some place where more pain waits him, but the joke’s on them because he can’t imagine a way to hurt him more than he already does, there’s a murmur next to him that should be comforting but isn’t for some reason –

_“Why not? I’m very interesting” and another victim falls into one of his traps, walks right in, oh Feathers, how naive you are when it comes to –_

No, no, more pain and – guilt, guilt, that’s the word, he knows it, he’s used it before, he just never felt it, not when he was – he was –

He wishes he could do anything but stare out the window, but he can’t even see most of what’s out there, and that’s good because it would probably only bring fresh pain –

Lake. There’s a lake out there.

_Lake. Ships. Gav –_

Pain almost blinds him, no, no thinking of ships and not thinking rthat name, he cannot take it, and they’ve stopped, and the door is opened and green eyes tells him to get out –

There’s another, a third, but he’s reluctant to make contact with him, it seems, and he’s saying something about a spell, alright, he can work with this, he knows magic, his mo –

_Always thought I’d be the one to kill her._

Why, why would he say that, it’s such a wicked thing to say and think and he would never  –

Would he have? Would he actually have done it? He can’t decide because he cannot think, and he has to think, it’s what he always does, he always has –

No, no, he didn’t, not this time, so why is he back? Why? A spell, a spell –

No, no magic, he can’t think of magic –

“This is your room”.

A room, he has a room, why a room? He hasn’t had a room for centuries, why would he need a room –

If I had a bed, or slept, ever.

He doesn’t need sleep, he’s not –

But he is, and this is his heart that’s beating oh so painfully, and –

Clothes. Green eyes is giving him clothes.

When was the last time he changed, anyway? Somehow he thinks if he can only remember that – and certainly thinking about clothes can’t – can’t –

_They ate my tailor!_

No, that won’t do either.

But there are clothes on his back, and he has a room, so they mean him no harm, and green eyes was – concerned? Was he? Or was he just imagining it?

He can’t tell, he can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s just a memory, but everything hurts, so what does it even matter?

He loses time, keeps losing time. He sleeps and eats when green eyes tells him to, and one night – he thinks it’s night, but it could be day, he’s underground somewhere – he remembers his name.

Dean.

There’s more pain that comes with it, of course, life’s pain, that seems to be the gist of it, and he years to make it stop, and so he forces himself to look at his surroundings, get his bearings, because –

One day at dinner he realizes it’s a knife he’s holding in his hands.

His ticket away from the pain.

He loses some time again, but then he’s in the bathroom, perfect, it won’t be difficult to clean up then, he doesn’t want to inconvenience the boys –

“No!” 

And the knife is taken out of his hand, he wants to, needs to protest, but he can’t –

For the first time, he hears Dean’s voice loud and clear.

“No. We are not doing that again. Look, I get that you’re hurting and feeling guilty, but that’s being human. You stand up, and you dust yourself off, and you throw yourself back into the fight like the King we know, alright? I told you, you can stay. We’ll figure this out”.

Things get easier after that. There is a new thought he can cling, a thought that doesn’t hurt; really, it’s rather the opposite.

_He doesn’t want me to die._

He remembers Sam’s and Cas’ names. For a few days, it’s rather difficult to keep them, until he recalls the nicknames he gave them, and then it’s almost too easy for this new existence in which just getting out of bed is difficult.

Talking is out of the question. He might still only scream when he wants to speak, and he doesn’t want to spook them, not when they have taken him for no reason at all except they wanted to, really. He certainly didn’t expect gratitude when he stabbed himself. He’s not used to it.

He regains his memories. It’s as unpleasant as he expects the process to be, but somehow it is made easier when he helps with the research or watches Dean fix the Impala again.

Eventually, he decides it’s time to reclaim his voice.

He hasn’t spoken in so long he’s almost afraid to hear his own voice, but he hasn’t the King of Hell for nothing. He can deal.

He clears his throat.

“Hello, boys”.

They turn around to smile at him.

For once, life’s not too bad.


End file.
